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From My Diary

24.02.2016

22.12.2015

I remember this one thing Gulzar said in an interview - 'Khushi phuljhadi ki tarah hoti hai, jaldi khatam ho jati hai. Udaasi der tak rehti hai'. Sadness. Solitude. Forlorn. All these words depict pain and suffering; of longing, of repentance, of feelings unexpressed. But off late I feel a deep sense of affection and attachment towards these words. For me, feelings are better left unexpressed. Sometimes even I want to share the grief, tell someone about my fragilities and expect sympathy. But it never happens. Your friends do care about you but because they know you so well, they are bound to judge you, even your best friend. If you start telling someone about your problems, at first you'll feel relieved. Then when it is repeated they start thinking there's something wrong with you, or worse, they start thinking that you think there's everything wrong with your life. Their perception hurts you so much that you end up on the same note. No, I'm not a hypercondriac. I know myself before you know me. I look like a crazy, carefree person but that's only what you see. I've failed twice. Trust is another thing, but I shouldn't expect of anyone to understand. If I'd been at their place, would I have understood? Probably not. So hey girl, better keep to yourself. You don't want to be seen like a cry baby, do you? (Be Strong)

19.08.2015

When you grow up and one day get a chance to revisit your childhood, you discover many things that you never noticed as a child. Today I visited my junior school building for some work. Asha ma'am who had taught me English in class 5 was helping me with the function's script. She was blunt with the corrections, as always. But after it was done she was generous to say- "I'm correcting you after so many years, Ishita! Please don't mind". For the first time being corrected by her was a pleasure. In class 5 the corrections were seen as rude remarks and scoldings that saddened me a lot sometimes. But today her valuable corrections and inputs seemed so significant. I remember how she had once sarcastically taunted me when I wore an un-ironed skirt to school. To this day, I make it a point to properly iron all my clothes, in fact I hate it when I see anyone else wear untidy clothes! This lesson she imparted was a 'taunt' that time which upset me a lot but today when I remember it my heart fills with gratitude for this lady who has raised girls like me into ladies! I also got a chance to assist Shikha ma'am in compèring a function. She was my maths teacher in primary and we all remember her as the ever so grumbling teacher scolding us at her high-pitched tone. But today she talked so gently to me; praised and motivated me. Today I realized that all those scoldings and anguished words were for our good. So in short, it was a day to count my blessings, especially the ones I wasn't aware of!

3 comments:

That was a beautiful message! ^__^ It was so relatable! :)While reading your diary entry, I recalled my KG teacher, who was tired of my timidness. But when I was in twelfth, she stopped me from going to my seat in the bus(we travelled by the same bus), and gave me a sweet as if I were her own kid. :)Oh and I think you meant, "compèring." :))

We also had a prayer service. :)) I used to visit the chapel daily! The last day was just so peculiar. I don't know how to describe that feeling.Also, while taking the candles a girl's hair got burnt. :/